


the rehearsal (Jyn's POV)

by firefeufuego



Series: sad orchestra au [3]
Category: Mozart in the Jungle (TV), Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, Jyn's POV is less polite than Cassian's, Quite a bit of swearing actually, Some Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 15:59:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16813831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefeufuego/pseuds/firefeufuego
Summary: Chapter 2 of encore, told from Jyn's perspectiveIt’s Jyn’s first rehearsal with the New York Symphony and she’s late.Fuck.The panic is roiling in her stomach along with her nerves(he’s here, and he hates you, but he’s here).She’s rushing through the corridors, music gathered in a haphazard pile in her arms, when she crashes into someone. The music scatters and her victim is sprawled out on the ground.Why does this keep happening?





	the rehearsal (Jyn's POV)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [estherlyon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/estherlyon/gifts).



It’s Jyn’s first rehearsal with the New York Symphony and she’s late. _Fuck._ The panic is roiling in her stomach along with her nerves _(he’s here, and he hates you, but he’s here)._ She’s rushing through the corridors, music gathered in a haphazard pile in her arms, when she crashes into someone. The music scatters and her victim is sprawled out on the ground.

 _Why does this_ keep _happening?_

 _‘Fuck,_ I’m so sorry.’ She curses as she corrals the pages back into their pile. Whoever she knocked over is still and silent so she glances over to check if they’re okay and-

The sight of him, so _unbelievably_ fucking beautiful, leaves her breathless. Her eyes run over every inch of him, notices a new sharpness to his features, those cheekbones that look like they could rip her to shreds.

_He’d probably want to, and you’d deserve it._

She tries to hide her love away when she looks at him, he’s Cynthia’s now and she won’t interfere with that, no matter how much she wants to. Just being here is probably toeing the line, but Rodrigo had offered and the chance to see him again, to really make sure he was happy, was too much to refuse.

He gets to his feet and when he looks up, he can’t even meet her eyes. ‘Jyn.’

God _,_ that _voice_. She bites her lip. ‘Cassian.’

Tense silence holds. There’s so much she wants to say ( _I’m sorry, I love you, Choose me)_ but she can’t imagine he wants to hear any of it. He’s wearing that impenetrable expression of his, the placid mask that serves as the perfect canvas for her whispering fears. She honestly doesn’t know which of them she’d prefer, that he hates her, or that he doesn’t care she’s here at all.

She’s saved by the inescapable exuberance of the maestro as he leads her out to the stage. When she turns back for a moment, Cassian’s resting his forehead on the wall, his shoulders slumped. Suddenly she wishes for his anger or indifference, anything other than seeing him hurt.

The first part of rehearsal rushes by as she adjusts to the orchestra and Rodrigo’s conducting style. Plus there’s always an element of living up to her reputation whenever she plays for someone for the first time. She knows she’s good, but her musical pedigree accounts for at least some of her success and there are still plenty of people who expect (or want) her to fail because of it.

Once she settles into the piece, her eyes stray towards Cassian. He looks good no matter what he’s doing, but there’s something about watching him play that captivates her. It’s more than just the natural attraction of competence, although watching his fingers dance masterfully over the fingerboard never fails to make her shiver. It’s the fact that he devotes himself so completely to his playing, giving the music every ounce of emotion and energy he has.

Being here with him, playing in the same room, is a breathless, near exquisite pain, but it’s so much better than the dull, grey ache of longing and regret that’s sat at the back of her mind for every minute of the past five years. She keeps watching until she nearly fucks up a bar and has to force her gaze away.

The movement builds and she pours the roiling rush of emotion into the chords that lead in to the climax, letting the energy and adrenaline pull her into the next section too fast.

Rodrigo cuts her off and there’s a moment of whiplash before she can absorb what he’s saying. His singing, which is almost as bad as hers, brings her back to herself properly and lets her settle enough to finish the movement.

They break after that and Jyn ducks outside to get some air, only to find Cassian wrapped in Cynthia’s arms. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, she knew they were together, but she feels her face crumple just the same.

She still remembers with excruciating clarity the sick jealousy of watching Cynthia walk out of Cassian’s apartment building that night. The elegant, effortless lines of her made Jyn feel ridiculous about the full hour she’d spent nervously fussing with her appearance before she’d gotten up the courage to go there.

How could she compete with that, and how selfish would it be to try? Cynthia was gorgeous sure, but she was also kind, supportive and she wouldn’t have to leave for months on end. She would take care of Cassian in a way that Jyn just couldn’t.

_That, and she’d never fucking abandoned him._

Her heart ached so much it hurt to breathe, he was so _close_ and she wanted him back so _much._ But when it came down to it, the last big decision she’d made about them had been about what she felt, _her_ fear. She needed to do right by him this time. If Cassian was happy, then everything else, the crushing loneliness, the excruciating longing, everything else would be alright.

She tells herself that again now, even though she still feels that loneliness and longing, a faded but constant ache.

Cynthia looks up, her eyes meeting Jyn’s.

Jyn ducks her head, too raw to try and hide the way she feels, and heads back inside. They’ll run over the Second Movement next and she can pour all of her pining heart into that.

That’s why she came, really. She wanted the chance to play this piece for him, to express her love one last time without ruining what he has with Cynthia.

She sits back at the piano and runs her fingers over the keys. Pianos are the closest she comes to lovers these days, the only things she touches with any sort of intimacy. She knows she should count herself lucky, she still has one of the great loves of her life, some people don’t even have that.

It’s strange, but she feels nervous. Not about her playing, she could play this piece in her sleep, but about baring her heart in front of so many strangers. If only there were some way to get everyone but Cassian to fuck off.

Instead, the orchestra files back in, Rodrigo steps back onto the podium and after a few quick notes, they start to play.

Jyn remembers when she started to associate this movement with Cassian. It was just after they'd moved in together, about a year into their relationship. They were lounging on their couch on a sunny afternoon, listening to a compilation CD of concertos. The easy loveliness of the theme drifted over them as she ran her fingers through his hair and he nestled closer against her breast. As she looked down at him, his gorgeous face so calm and open, the building cadenzas mirrored perfectly how she felt about him, happiness so strong it made her want to cry, love that was terrifying in its heady enormity. After she’d left, playing the piece was the closest she could come to feeling what it was like to be with him.

Actually having him in the room makes all of it stronger, although the euphoria of feeling so in love is tempered by the knowledge that he’s not hers and never will be again. It’s perverse that she misses him so fiercely when he’s close for the first time in years. Still, there’s a bittersweet pleasure in the ache of it and the tears that prick at her eyes as she plays the coda are not entirely sad.

She glances at Cassian to find open, deep emotion on his face. She wishes she could tell him that she was playing for him without ruining everything. But she can’t. He still won’t meet her eyes, can barely stand to look at her, and as much as she knows she deserves it, it still hurts like a bitch.

There’s thankfully only a few notes from Rodrigo and it’s nothing that contradicts her interpretation of the piece. They run over some sections again before the flautist, probably the head of the union, announces another break.

Jyn heads to the bathroom, locking herself in a cubicle and taking deep breaths as she tries to get her emotions back under control. Her mission is essentially completed, she played the movement for Cassian and it was wonderful and painful in equal measure. Now she just has to focus on doing her job and finally, maybe, think about moving on. She walks out to find Cynthia at the sinks, leaning on the counter with her arms crossed and apparently waiting for Jyn.

‘You’re jealous of us.’ Cynthia’s voice is cold and calm. Even her anger is elegant in a way Jyn will never be. ‘Is that why you left him?’

‘No. And I’m not jealous. I hope you two are happy together, really.’ She moves toward the door.

‘He’s not happy.’

Jyn freezes, guilt and the desperate need for any kind of news of him holding her in place.

‘He’s been lonely and miserable for all this time and for what? What the fuck were you thinking?’ She’s not yelling, and it’s almost worse.

‘It’s complicated. I was doing what I thought was right.’

Cynthia’s eyebrow raises. ‘Well done there. Look, I don’t really need an explanation, but you’d better come up with something better than that for him.’

‘I wasn’t going to talk to him, I don’t want to get in the way of your relationship.’ _And also I’m a coward._

With a sigh, Cynthia says, ‘We’re not together.’

‘But I saw-’

‘What? Two people hugging? We’re friends.’

‘I saw you come out of his apartment late at night.’ Part of her is now trying desperately to reinterpret that into something else, but she feels like she’s grasping at straws.

A flicker of surprise crosses Cynthia’s cool, collected expression. ‘When?’

‘Four years ago. I-’

‘You came back.’ There’s a kind of sympathy in her face now. She shakes her head. ‘Look, we’re friends. He needed someone and you weren’t here. We stopped doing it a while ago.’

 _But you still touched him, you still saw the side of him that’s supposed to be mine._ Jyn tells herself to shut it. There’s an awful sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach at the knowledge that she’s been staying away from Cassian for four years for nothing. _It doesn’t matter, remember. He hates you, he probably never wants to talk to you again._ Still, her pining heart whispers, if he’s not with Cynthia, he might be willing to touch her, just one last time.

They stand in silence for a moment before Cynthia heads to the door. ‘C’mon, the break will be over soon.’ Before she steps through, she turns back to Jyn. ‘I’m not going to tell you what to do, but you broke a good man’s heart and he deserves to know why.’

It’s true, but Jyn doesn’t think she could bear to hear what would come next, to hear the man she loves tell her he wants nothing more to do with her. Better not to talk then, better to hope that he’s as desperate for touch as she is and take what she can get. She follows Cynthia out and sees Cassian’s eyes on her. She can’t read him, but that’s not new. Would he shut the door in her face if she came to him? Or would he see how much she needs him to kiss her, so much she’s trembling from it already?

Once she gets back to her hotel, she changes into her one pair of nice underwear that she brings on every tour in the vain hope that someone will spark something in her like Cassian does. She pushes back the memory of the rest of that night four years ago, when she went straight from Cassian's street to a bar and chose the first person who looked like they wanted to fuck her. She can still feel his too wet mouth on her breast as she egged him on, hoping that she’d start to feel something, eventually closing her eyes and pretending it was Cassian. That didn’t work and thankfully, her partner noticed and left, bashful and embarrassed. Jyn sat there for hours, guilty and still brokenhearted. She hasn’t let anyone touch her since.

She stands in front of the mirror, attempting to do something with her hair that won’t look like she tried too hard if Cassian rejects her. She’s sick with nerves but her body’s already singing for him. Getting out her phone, she orders an Uber, typing in the address she had to get from Rodrigo (who winked when he gave it to her).

Jyn gets all the way to Cassian’s front door before she seriously questions what the fuck she’s doing. She rests her forehead against the wood and runs her options through her mind. In all likelihood, she’ll spend the night alone back in her hotel room, but the only way to spend it with him is to knock. _This is your last chance, Erso. Are you going to let it get away?_

She breathes in and knocks.

**Author's Note:**

> For those reading chronologically, here's [Chapter 3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12897486/chapters/29646315#workskin) of encore


End file.
